All I Want For Chrismas Is You
by PalindromeIsntOne
Summary: ArthurxMerlin. A little bit of Christmas lurve. -OLD, OOC-
1. Sniffles

1. Sniffles

The walls vibrated as yet another vibration rocked the cave. With a torch Merlin carefully made his way along the tunnel before entering into the main cave to see what was causing the trouble.

"Dragon?"

The giant dragon was the one causing the vibrations – he was, unbelievably, sneezing. So the cave wasn't about to undergo some sort of internal avalanche after all.

"My nose…"

"Dragon, are you alright?" Merlin edged forwards cautiously.

"It appears…" He sniffed again. "…That I've caught a cold."

"Oh dear!"

"Oh _dear?!_ How _dare_ you! I'll have you know this is a disaster! I can't…" He looked down, ashamed.

"What?"

"… breathe fire," he finished after a pause.

"Oh no!" That was definitely not good. Merlin had been planning a sort of interesting marshmallow toasting session to celebrate Christmas, and a main part of it involved the dragon breathing fire. Now it didn't seem that plan wasn't going to work. He sighed at the thought of having to use an ordinary bonfire. How boring.

"_Oh no?!_ Will you stop being so pathetic? Fix it!"

"I, er… well… I don't know how."

The dragon snorted, but the snort was cut off midway as it turned into a sneeze, covering Merlin in dragon snot.

"Yuck."

"Can't help it."

Merlin hesitated for a while. "Hope you haven't got a chesty cough as well."

"Why's that?"

"I don't think I could deal with that amount of phlegm."

Dragon swiped at him, offended, flinging him off his platform into the abyss. A significant amount of snot followed shortly afterwards.

A few minutes later he was salvaged, though Dragon refused to speak to him as he dumped him harshly back on the platform. Merlin staggered, wiping mucus from his face, and slimed his way back up the tunnels. He really, _really_ needed a shower and change of clothes. He was so glad Arthur couldn't see him now. He was halfway to his rooms when a familiar voice came from behind him.

"Merlin? Bloody hell, what happened to you?" Arthur. This obviously wasn't Merlin's lucky day.

"Erm…"

"Got caught in some sort of public riot involving gunge throwing?"

"Something like that…"

"You need a hand getting it off?"

Images flashed in Merlin's head. Was Arthur finally going to admit that…

"I suppose we could use some sort of knife to scrape it off your clothes. That stuff sticks like glue, I'm telling you, you need to get it off quick." Ah. So not _quite_ what Merlin had been hoping for… he turned his head to hide a blush.

"Um, yeah, sure."

"Gimme your top then, that'll split the job half-half. Oh, and is that marshmallow thing still on?"

"Erm…" Yes, the marshmallow-toasting-to-celebrate-Christmas. He'd almost forgotten about that. Oh dear… how was he going to explain the Dragon had a cold? "Yes, I just need to erm…" _Somehow get the Dragon breathing fire again which may involve a hell of a lot of cough and cold syrup and extremely large tissues._ "…get some marshmallows."

"Honestly Merlin. A marshmallow party and you forgot the marshmallows? What did you expect us to do at a marshmallow party without marshmallows?"

_Well…there was always…_

"I got some anyway, so don't you worry. What would you do without me?" Arthur smiled and Merlin's heart jumped. _Oh Arthur, I don't know what I'd do, but I might spend less time being so damn h–_

"See you later, yes? At the pub, like you said."

"Yes." God, he'd forgotten about that as well. He began to walk away.

"Oh, and Merlin?" Merlin spun around. Arthur paused for a long moment. Merlin's heart rate tripled within a second. _Yes, yes? For god's sake speak before I ex–_

"You really smell."

Merlin smiled apologetically. Damn it, he really needed to stop thinking that Arthur might say… He sighed.

Back in his room he examined his appearance in front of the mirror. This would be one of the few times he had been somewhere with just Arthur, in a not-trying-to-save-anybody/the world way. Kind of like a…date. Not that _Arthur_ thought it was a date, he never did, maybe never would… Yes, the blue worked, brought out his eyes. And, green trousers? And a red tunic. Hmmm. He twisted from side to side. What about his hair? Flat, combed down and serious, or tousled and sexy? Could he even _do_ sexy? Arthur had never really shown his feelings about Merlin… not in the way Merlin was looking for… what if he didn't like him that way? No, that was a reality too horrible to contemplate. He sighed. Well there was no harm in trying. He ran his hands through his hair, ruffling it up. Was that how it was done? Oh dear, he felt like such a prat. A self-conscious one at that. Never mind. He needed a shower. He'd decide on his hair later.


	2. Tipsy

2. Tipsy

Arthur took off his armour and relaxed his shoulders. A good time in the pub was just what he needed. Maybe he could get Merlin to open up a bit, he seemed a bit, well, shy. Not very shy, but… Arthur frowned. It was like Merlin was keeping something from him and was afraid of what he would think if he shared it. Well, they say alcohol loosens the tongue… He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it up. Sexy. Then he laughed. Why was he trying to be sexy? Merlin was obviously not interested in him like that… but to think that the possibility might be out of the question was a reality too horrible to contemplate. He left his hair ruffled and headed to the pub.

It was reasonably busy when they arrived and took their seats at the bar. Whilst Merlin ordered drinks, Arthur looked at him. Merlin had ruffled his hair as well, and it suited him in a really cute, yet terribly attractive way. He really wanted to run his hands through that hair. _He_ was not shy by _any_ standards, he would have easily run his hands through Merlin's hair without a second thought… but Merlin was more sensitive – what if he took it wrongly? He kept his hands to himself, and occupied them with holding his mug as soon as it arrived, to stop them straying.

"Is the marshmallow thing still on for tomorrow then?"

"Yes, of course. Sorry I forgot the marshmallows, I'll get them as soon as possible."

"Don't apologise." _Actually, do, you look so adorable when you do that._ "I've got some myself, I told you earlier. There's loads, don't bother with getting some more."

"Right."

"You said there was a special twist to this particular marshmallow toasting?" It was _so_ hard to say that without being suggestive. He inwardly congratulated himself on his self-control. He had to admit his thoughts hadn't been innocent when Merlin had first said that to him… but it probably meant nothing more than a really large fire or something.

"Yeah," Merlin replied quietly. _Was he blushing?_ Arthur sincerely hoped he was, but quickly dismissed the thought.

"Well – what is it?"

"It's in progress." He looked thoughtful. Arthur subdued a sigh of impatience in a yawn. He wanted to know what this twist was more than he would like to admit. _In progress? What, are you trying to win me over? That's not in progress, that was done ages ago… Baby, I'm already yours. _The suspense was killing him. Alcohol loosens the tongue, he thought.

"Two more drinks, please," he said to the bartender.

"But I haven't even finished this one!" Merlin protested beside him.

Arthur had a split second to produce his grin. Not a smile, that would be too little and appear sad, as if he needed to drown his sorrows in as much alcohol as he could get. Not too big and overly happy, or that would look weird. Not cheeky, because god knows what Merlin would do if he thought Arthur was flirting with him. Just a big friendly grin saying, "Yeah, I know. Alcohol's great, isn't it?" It worked. Merlin quickly drained his drink and began on the new one. Arthur did the same, hoping his liver was better at alcohol that Merlin's, he didn't want to be drunk himself because he needed to remember whatever information he could wheedle out of Merlin for future reference.

For the first half an hour he let the conversation drift around casual topics, Christmas, family, food, and then once Merlin began on his third drink (a slightly stronger one than the second and first) he decided to begin his interrogation. But as soon as he had decided to do this, he realised he didn't know how to go about it. How would he even _approach_ what he wanted to ask? Come straight out with it – _Are you hiding something? Do you __**like **__me? _And how to do it subtly? _You seem a bit reserved recently, Merlin._ But he hadn't, that was the problem. He had _always_ been reserved – _that _was the problem. Arthur shook his head inwardly, realising his plan wasn't going to work. But it appeared he wouldn't have got a lot of sense out of Merlin anyway, for one glance told Arthur that Merlin was well on the way to being very drunk indeed. Well that solved the liver question, Arthur thought, amused. God, was Merlin actually _giggling_? He looked so sweet. He should get drunk more often.

"Arthur, did you know Dragon has a cold?" he spluttered out, swaying slightly.

"No…" Arthur laughed. "Merlin, I do believe you are quite drunk."

"No, n-no I'm not!" he exclaimed.

"So what's the surprise at our marshmallow feast? Are you bringing girls?"

"NO!" He sounded adamant, and that made Arthur feel better instantly.

"So what's the surprise?"

But Merlin was far too drunk to answer two questions in a row. He mumbled something incoherent and practically fell off his stool, would have fallen, in fact, if Arthur hadn't quickly jumped off his own stool and caught Merlin mid tilt before putting him on his feet. However, Merlin seemed to be unable to support himself, and leant on Arthur for support, still smiling drunkenly. Arthur hardly objected, but he knew that if Merlin at any point sobered slightly and realised what was happening he might be very embarrassed indeed. He lifted him considerately back onto his stool, and watched as he slumped forward over the bar, before turning his head to look at Arthur. There was a mischievous glint in his eye that really suited him. Arthur smiled. And then Merlin's eyes changed colour briefly from blue to golden and then back again. Arthur pinched himself, but didn't really feel it. He must be slightly drunk himself. Merlin's eyes kept flashing golden now, again and again, and he was laughing freely. Arthur loved this new, relaxed Merlin, but was slightly worried about his own state, as he was officially having delusions about Merlin's changing eye colour. Then Merlin swayed again, and managed to slip off his stool and onto the floor. Well that wouldn't do. Arthur slid his arms under the poor drunk, and carried him out of the bar. Sure, they were both drunk, and Arthur hadn't found out _anything_ he wanted to know, but hey, there was always some good to be made out of such situations. Like now, with Merlin huddled against him.

He crossed over a small courtyard, and as he walked he realised that Merlin's bare hand was resting lightly on his bare chest. _Bare_ chest? How had that happened? It seemed at least five buttons had undone themselves… no, _popped off_ his shirt since he had left the pub, and his shirt was hanging open. How had that happened? Ah well never mind _why_, it felt great. A big grin spread across Arthur's face. Oh, he hoped Merlin wouldn't remember this.


	3. Decorations

3. Decorations

Merlin's head throbbed like some vicious sledgehammer lover was having a party inside his temples. Where was he? His bedroom. Well that was good. How had he got there? He hadn't a clue.

"My head…" he croaked, rolling over and sitting up. Where were his memories? He needed them back. He began to look under the bed for them, then realised what he was doing and fully woke up.

"Oh, please say that was a dream…" he mumbled. He had used his magic to pop buttons on Arthur's… oh god help him. He was never going to live this down. His hand, Arthur's chest, being _carried_…

"Please say that Arthur was too drunk to remember that…" he pleaded silently. And then more memories flooded in. Last night… Arthur's shirt wasn't the only thing he had used his magic on. He got up instantly. Oh dear, Dragon wasn't going to be happy…

He ran as fast as he could down the tunnel, so fast the torch almost went out, but when he finally reached the cave, he realised he probably didn't want to be running to meet an undoubtedly, very, very angry dragon.

"MERLIN!" came the roar, luckily for him, slightly muffled by a rasping sore throat.

"Erm…"

"I suppose…" said Dragon, as he rose up from the depths of the cave to meet him, "…that you think this is _funny_."

Tinsel hung in long lines around the cave, interspersed with small silver bells and holly wreaths. A large pink bow with 'Merry Christmas' was tied around Dragon's neck, and an oversized Santa hat flopped over his head. A small Christmas tree protruded out of one wall. All in all, it looked unusually welcoming. All in all, it was totally unlike Dragon's style, and it showed in his expression. As his frown narrowed a few pink balloons floated up behind his left ear, and Merlin struggled not to laugh.

"Merry Christmas?" he suggested.

There weren't words to express Dragon's fury, so he turned his head to one side and let out, or rather, _tried_ to let out a long jet of flame. What actually happened was he coughed horribly, and hawked up a large lump of phlegm.

"Well you got the _colour_ right," Merlin said before he could stop himself. Dragon turned his head slowly to face him. Evidently he was trying very hard to restrain himself from tearing down the whole cave bit by bit and then throwing all the bits at Merlin. Suddenly Merlin clicked with the danger of being a very small man next to a very large angry Dragon. He fell to his knees.

"Please don't eat me."

"No… I have a better plan," Dragon growled. Merlin tried not to raise an eyebrow. What was up with him today? He was being _far_ too cheeky. Dragon twitched his nose. Merlin tried not to laugh. A dragon with a cold… The effort of not laughing was too much. Part of it broke out in a big smile. Just then, a tremendous sneeze shook the cave and Merlin found himself drenched with snot. He wiped the snot out of his eyes before looking up at Dragon, disgusted. Dragon was wearing a satisfied smile.

"So," he said jovially, as sneezing over Merlin had undoubtedly been the 'plan' in question, "When are you planning to fix my cold?"

"Well, I might be able to get hold of some syrup which could help…"

"Yes? When can you get that?"

"I'd like something in return," Merlin said quietly, hoping he wasn't pushing his luck.

Dragon snorted and paced for a few moments, coughing. Eventually he decided that whatever Merlin might want in exchange was probably worth him getting his flame back. What was a dragon without flame, after all?

"Alright, lets hear it," he growled.

"I was hoping you would help me with an unusual marshmallow toasting for Christmas. You could breathe flame whilst we toasted."

"You _have_ to be joking. Christmas! I detest it! Such a waste… and never anything for me…" he added the last part so silently Merlin only just heard it.

"I could bring you something else instead of marshmallows? Turkey maybe?"

"Hmmm…" Dragon bent his neck low so that he could look Merlin in the eye. It would have been a serious, piercing glare, but the effect was spoilt by the pointed top of his Christmas hat drooping down over one eye. Then reluctantly, he nodded. "Only if you get my flame back."

"Yes, of course. Thank you Dragon." He quickly turned and left. He had got the promised help from Dragon he needed which would add a nice twist to the usual bonfire toasting, but now he really needed a shower.

Afterwards, when he was lying on his bed, the worst of his hangover now gone, he realised that although a large amount of his memories had come back, there was one major part missing. He had fallen off his stool drunkenly, Arthur had picked him up and carried him away, he had put his hand on Arthur's chest… and then woken up the next morning. What had happened in that gap? He blushed. He hoped it was nothing either very important, because he couldn't remember it, or something embarrassing, or it would be very hard to look Arthur in the eye next time they met. Had Arthur just carried him to his bedroom and put him down before leaving? What if he had? What if he hadn't? He vowed never to get that drunk ever again. A sick feeling settled in his stomach… he really needed to know what had happened…


	4. So Close

4. So close

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Arthur sighed and pulled on his boots to go out for some fresh air. Now he wondered if he should have done something. But no, he had just carried Merlin into his room, dumped him there and left, fighting the urge to sit on the edge of his bed and brush errant strands of hair off his face, and watch how his eyelashes fluttered prettily as he dreamed. But it would have been wrong to do that. A smile reached his face as he remembered how very drunk Merlin had been. He wondered how much Merlin remembered of last night.

Just outside of town there was small peaceful field, where nothing happened except for the wind moving through the long grass. Arthur sat on a fence at one end of it. It was a good place for thinking. Just then, a distant figure appeared on the other side of the field – Merlin? He seemed to be lugging a heavy bucket of something with one hand. Arthur yelled out and waved a hand, then ran across the field to meet Merlin halfway.

"What you got there?" he asked, looking at the bucket.

"Oh, just a cough and cold medicine I was brewing earlier. It's done now."

"Don't you think that's an awful lot of medicine?"

Merlin shrugged. "I guess. I wasn't really thinking about it." He had a small twig stuck in his hair, and Arthur almost reached a hand to remove it, but remembered where he was. He wished he could stop remembering where he was – if he didn't maybe something might actually _happen_. He smothered the following smile with a small cough into his hand.

"…at 7 then?"

"What?" He had missed half of that. That twig in Merlin's hair was really annoying him. Sighing, he lay back in the grass, and Merlin copied him.

"We're still meeting up at 7 for the marshmallow thing, right?"

"Oh yeah, that…" He muttered dreamily, thinking of other ways he could remove that twig… perhaps with his teeth… or pulling Merlin's shirt over his head would probably dislodge it…

"Meet up outside the pub?" Merlin's voice cut through his reverie.

"Yeah, sure. Where are we having this thing anyway?" Arthur asked, unfocussed. It seemed Merlin's head was also in the clouds, as he didn't reply. After a while he broke out of his trance and coughed, embarrassed.

"What is it?" Arthur frowned. Damn that twig. He could practically feel Merlin's hair running through his hands just by looking at it.

"What… erm… haha…" he laughed nervously. _Oh my God please say– _"Exactly what did I do when I was drunk last night?"

"Oh." Arthur's heart began to resume its normal rate. "You passed out. I shoved you in bed and left you to sleep it out. Bet you had a hangover and a half this morning!"

"I did," he confessed with a smile, barely hiding his relief. "What you staring at?" Ah. So it was obvious that Arthur was staring at his hair.

"Um… there's a twig… just there…" _Go on, do it_, he urged himself, and leaned in, reaching a hand towards Merlin's hair to take it out. He was leaning in closer than necessary, but pretended he couldn't quite see the twig, or was puzzling how to get it out. His hand found the twig and gently teased it out. Then, having succeeded, he showed Merlin the twig and smiled, looking straight into those lovely blue eyes. _How had their faces got that close?_ He hoped Merlin couldn't hear how loud his heart was thumping. In his mind he asked, _Do you want me?_ Unfortunately he couldn't hear Merlin as he inwardly screamed the affirmative. He leant away again and tossed the twig to one side, trying to steady himself. His hands were trembling slightly, he could feel them. He sat on them quickly. Then, realising he was about to fail completely at controlling himself if he stayed a moment longer, he stood quickly and managed to say, "See you at seven then," before walking away. As soon as he turned a corner and made it behind some tall bushes he started to run, the adrenalin pulsing through his muscles. What had he done?

He made it back to his room and fell onto his bed before punching the pillows passionately. Damn it, damn it, and damn it again! Why couldn't Merlin give him one inkling, just one little _inkling_ of how he felt? As a Christmas gift perhaps, before he went insane. He went over to his draw and took out the three bags of marshmallows he had bought. He'd better start getting a grip or otherwise he'd never make it through an evening of sitting by a cute little bonfire with Merlin's eyes sparkling in the firelight…

He got up and began to pace the room. He needed a plan. A good plan, that would somehow bring them closer but have an escape route if his hopes were totally wrong. Did such a brilliant plan even exist? Surely it would be famous if there was such a plan? There was the getting drunk option – but that wouldn't work because they either wouldn't remember it or be too insensible to carry anything out. No, it would have to be sober, perhaps just one drink for confidence. He slapped himself on the forehead but it failed to dislodge any ingenious plans that might be clinging to his subconscious. He wasn't even sure Merlin was gay… there had been that girl… but Arthur had never been convinced about her… maybe he was just being too hopeful. The thought sobered him quickly. What could he do? Was it the truth that Merlin wasn't in the slightest bit interested in him or was it just his mind helpfully bracing him for the worst possible option should it be accurate? No, there was too much chemistry for it to be one way…

He stopped pacing. There seemed only one thing for it – he would simply go with the flow.


	5. Marshmallows

5. Marshmallows

This was it. Merlin took a deep breath and tried not to jiggle impatiently on the spot as he looked out for Arthur. He had given Dragon the bucket of syrup and hopefully the worst of the cold would be gone now. And he had the turkey, which Dragon should appreciate. Arthur had been so close to him in the field… a warm blush crept its way over his face.

"Merlin?"

Merlin jumped and let out a small scream. His blush, rather than going away as he wished it would, deepened to a rosy red. "God – You appeared out of nowhere!"

Arthur laughed. "Yeah. Well I've got the marshmallows – where are we going? And why do you have a turkey?"

Merlin smiled. "Let's go visit Dragon."

Down in the cave Dragon was humming a Christmas tune, but he quickly stopped when he saw the two men and cleared his throat. "Hello Merlin and Arthur."

"Hello Dragon – how's your throat?"

"Good for keeping our agreement," he growled happily.

"Here Arthur, grab a stick."

"What?" Arthur raised an eyebrow in surprise as Merlin tossed him a long metal pole, before beginning to put marshmallows on his own. Arthur copied him.

"Might I ask why these sticks are so big?"

Merlin grinned. "Stand back. Dragon, the honour's all yours." They both moved to one side as the dragon opened his mouth and let out a scorching blast of flame. The marshmallows turned to ash and fell from the poles instantly. Merlin laughed, and Arthur joined in.

"Try again, this time a little less, um… fiery." Rather than being insulted, Dragon did as asked. After a few minutes, cheeks full of delicious marshmallows, Arthur asked, "How do you manage to breath out for so long?"

"Circular breathing," Dragon explained. He began to hum again, swaying slightly on the spot, almost as if dancing.

"Is he ok?" Arthur whispered to Merlin.

"Erm…" Merlin thought for a moment, and then his eyes widened. "Ah."

"What?"

"That bucket of cough and cold medicine… well I'm not an expert… there's a small chance it might have fermented slightly…"

"And become alcohol? You're kidding? You've got _the_ Dragon _drunk_?" He burst out laughing, clutching his sides. Meanwhile, the Dragon appeared to be inhaling some of the helium from the large amount of balloons Merlin had magic'd there when he was drunk.

"Merry Christmas ever-ry-body!" Dragon said in a high voice, sending Arthur and Merlin into more fits of laughter. And then, totally unexpectedly, he began to sing 'All I Want For Christmas Is You', and even more unexpectedly, he sang it really, really well. If he turned his head away Merlin could almost believe Mariah Carey had somehow appeared in the cave. He laughed at first, it seemed so out of place, but his laughter quickly became forced as the lyrics took hold of his mind. He hoped Arthur hadn't notice the transition. _I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know…_Arthur's blond hair and sparkling eyes seemed all the more striking tonight. He was handsome; undeniably, powerfully, and totally charming, and at that moment he filled Merlin's whole world with his smiling face. He was barely aware that he had stopped laughing completely. _…And I, I just want to keep on waiting, underneath the mistletoe…_His feelings bubbled inside him, and formed a familiar pressure in his chest, like he would explode. Arthur had stopped laughing now, was just smiling, turning his head almost in slow motion to direct that smile at Merlin… _Make my wish come true – all I want for Christmas is you…_

"Well, it's Christmas tomorrow Merlin."

"Yes." A few more minutes passed. They ate their marshmallows silently as they listened to Dragon sing. …_Oh baby, all I want for Christmas is you…_ Don't look at Arthur don't look at him don't…

"You alright Merlin? Dragon's singing is a bit… unusual isn't it?"

It didn't feel like there was any oxygen to reply with. "Yeah," he agreed, nodding. So there was oxygen after all. He just didn't seem to be able to use it.

"Well."

"Well." Dragon's song seemed to be lasting forever, or was time just moving more slowly? Neither of them spoke. Was Arthur offended with Merlin's silence? He wanted to speak, make himself feel less awkward, but he didn't trust his voice not to break.

"Well merry Christmas." Arthur stood up. Was he leaving? He stretched. Merlin panicked. No, he couldn't go _now_…

"Where are you going?"

"I don't know," Arthur admitted. Merlin waited for him to continue. He didn't.

"Dragon's singing isn't _that _bad."

There was a long pause. "That's not what's bothering me."

"Then what is?"

There was an even longer pause. "You are."

_No…He didn't feel the same, he was going to let him down gently in the field but couldn't bring himself to do it and left quickly because Merlin was his friend…He wanted to let him know where he stood because he didn't want to upset him…_ Merlin choked back the tears and ran past Arthur and out of the cave.

"Merlin? Where are you going?" came Arthur's concerned voice, following him. Merlin barely heard.

Outside the first snowflakes were starting to fall, a perfect Christmas eve. Such a beautiful night didn't deserve such a wretched ending. His feet worked of their own accord, taking him somewhere, anywhere.

"Merlin!"

_No, no…why did you have to speak? At least before I had hope…_ Merlin's throat burned with the tears he couldn't bear to show.

"MERLIN!"

The cold seeped in through his clothes, numbing his fingers and toes, but not his heart, leaving it mercilessly raw and burning.

"Merlin? Hey!"

He was slipping behind. Good. That meant Merlin was losing him. A tear sliced its way down his cheek as he realised his choice of phrasing… _losing_ him…

"MERLIN! COME BACK!"

Merlin wanted to turn around and go back to Arthur, if only to be near him, but knew that do so would be fatal. If he wanted any sort of emotional stability in the future, he would put off this conversation forever, and fill the knowledge of its potential existence with a million trivialities.

"Merlin!"

Tears were blurring his vision into a large grey mass of nothing. He blinked them away, and saw that he was running into a large square, a fountain gurgling at its centre. Weary, he slowed to a walk, trying to breathe past the lump in his throat.

"Merlin…" Arthur was panting for breath after trying to run to catch up with him. "Merlin? What's wrong?" He put a hand on his shoulder but quickly withdrew it when Merlin flinched. "Merlin?" he whispered. "What's wrong?" he repeated. Slowly, Merlin turned around to face him, trying so hard not to cry he couldn't breathe.

"Speak to me." Snowflakes were collecting on Arthur's eyelashes. They looked so pretty Merlin wanted to smile despite himself. Arthur saw his lips twitch and smiled back.

"What the hell did you run off for?"

"You were…going to…"

"Say what was bothering me? Yes… and you just ran off!" Merlin didn't reply. Arthur gave a slightly hysterical laugh. "You really didn't want to hear me say it _that_ badly? Well perhaps you were right…perhaps I ought to keep quiet…"

"Don't say it…" Merlin whispered. Arthur inhaled sharply and turned away for a moment, putting his hand on his forehead. Then he turned back again.

"I know how you feel, Merlin, but I still have to say it…"

Merlin held his breath. If he breathed he would break down right there. Ignorant of this, Arthur grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him up against the fountain.

"I love you, Merlin."


	6. Love

6. Love

Then Arthur began to speak very fast.

"Iknowyoudon'tfeelthesamebutIhadtosayitI'msosorrypleasedon'tendourfriendship."

Merlin's head was whirling. His ears must have substituted what Arthur actually said for what he wanted to hear to protect his sanity. He didn't know whether to be glad or worried.

"Merlin? Hello? For God's sake, reply!" Arthur shook him harshly. "Speak, damn you! This is killing me!"

"W-what…I…" He mouthed hopelessly. The lump in his throat finally shifted and tears poured out of his eyes, one after the other. He wanted what he'd heard to be true so much…

"Merlin? Are you okay?" Arthur sounded both surprised and concerned, and pulled him into an embrace. "Well I wasn't expecting that…" he mumbled, running his hand through Merlin's hair, a wonderful sensation. After a few long seconds Merlin semi-composed himself and pulled away. Arthur gave him a searching look.

"Did you hear me right Merlin? Why are you crying? If anything, _I _should be crying… I expected you to be monumentally shocked at worst, consoling at best…"

"W-w-what?" Merlin stammered.

"I love you." Arthur smiled crookedly, which played havoc with Merlin's stomach. Was he really hearing that?

"What?" he whispered, a little more confidently.

Arthur took a deep breath. "Merlin, I love you, I always will, as surely as it is snowing right now."

Merlin's lips trembled in something approaching a smile. "What was that again?" he said, and Arthur's face changed from one expression to another before spreading into a large grin.

"You heard me the first time didn't you? You little imp." He ruffled Merlin's hair playfully. A deep, deep warmth filled him.

"I love you Arthur."

"Thank god for that." And Merlin could tell that Arthur hadn't been entirely sure before then from the way his voice filled with relief and joy as he grabbed him in a strong bear hug. There was a long moment of pure bliss, which Arthur finally interrupted by saying, "I wouldn't rush anything after such a big revelation, but…" He looked down as politely as he could before looking back up at Merlin, who was grinning.

"I can't help it, I can't stop thinking about that moment in the field…" he blushed.

"Tell me about it," Arthur groaned, taking Merlin in his arms and kissing him passionately. It was going to be the best Christmas _ever_.

The End.


End file.
